Live Free or let me Die

by Nox-Rufus

Draco Malfoy is a pureblood born and bred, thankyouverymuch. But then on his sixteenth birthday, someone tells him, "You are not even human," and he knows she's right. Returning to Hogwarts proves hard, harder still with the upcoming war, and even harder when he finds himself plunged into an inheritance he doesn't want. Draco/Harry boy/boy, rated T for now. Draco!Veela Complete

14. I choose You

Chapter Fourteen: I choose you.

If this is being dead, then it sucks, was Draco's first clear thought. He didn't believe in hell or paradise, he didn't believe there was anything to be perfectly frank. He simply supposed it would be better than not being able to look around you and hearing people shout at your side. It reminded him of Christmas morning at the Manor. He tried to open his eyes but felt they were going the same way as his legs, blackness surrounded him. He stopped and listened to the shouting. He heard his name a couple of times, the sounds of the machines in motion, something of a struggle and rain drops crashing against the window. He blinked and looked up at the ceiling, finally managing to see.

He was disappointed by how quickly he recognized the place. He knew this was Saint Mungo's; that he wasn't dead, unfortunately. His entire body was paralysed this time, he could move his eyes and his neck, but his energy was not enough to do more. He was just so tired, so done with all this. He turned his head just in time to see what was going on and his heart stopped, for real this time. Everyone paused with him and he looked at the group standing by the door. There were three doctors doing their best to keep Harry Potter, the one and only, out of the room.

Draco stared for a moment he then whispered, "Get him out." He remembered the letter and shouted, "Get him out!"

Harry protested, yelling things Draco did not listen to. He turned round and closed off his ears – and his heart – as a struggling pain took over his chest. He managed to lift his arm and hold onto his chest. He closed his eyes with the agony, remembering the rejection with a sharp pang. He felt something wet on his chin and reached for it. It was blood. He knew the mark had spread again. Soon it would take over him and there would be nothing left. Not that there was much left at that point.

Klaymore sat by him on the bed. He looked over at the door and then out of the window, before settling on Draco's limp form. "He's your mate, isn't he?" he asked.

Draco took the closest cushion he could find and hugged it close to him. He simply nodded his reply, daring not to speak.

"Why did you send him away?" he added.

Draco sighed and tried to sit up but his legs refused to cooperate. Klaymore helped him and he leaned back holding the cushion still. "He rejected me, ok?" Draco said. "He doesn't want me so I don't want to see him."

Klaymore nodded and crossed his arms. "Didn't look like rejection to me, but sure does explain the near death situation. How did he do it?" He questioned while leaning back so that he too was lying on the bed by Draco's feet.

The latter looked out the window, laying his head on the pillow. "He sent me a letter, yesterday. Said he didn't want to live a lie as important," he replied.

Klaymore nodded to no one in particular and stared at the ceiling. After a while he frowned and sat back up. "Saint Mungo's doesn't allow letters," he said.

Draco shrugged. "Probably allowed it because it came from Harry bloody Potter."

"No, it would have had to pass through me."

Draco sighed and didn't even grant him another look. "Look, he rejected me; can we stop about it now? It's already hard enough," he said coldly.

Klaymore frowned and got up; he left quickly without another word. Draco didn't bother to react. It was all over anyway. He closed his eyes and waited. Perhaps dying was more like he thought it would be; and for the first time in his life, he was actually looking forward to it.

""""""""""

He didn't die. He didn't feel alive, granted, but he did not die. He just stayed in bed, he didn't even bother trying his legs again; he just gave up. He didn't eat; he didn't speak for the rest of the day.

He only looked up when Klaymore came back in a rush and announced loudly, "Princess! I got it!"

Draco looked at him with an interrogating eye brow.

He sat down, plonked heavily on the bed, Draco didn't even feel it. He waited patiently; he had nothing better to do anyway. "That letter you supposedly got from Harry, well it isn't!" he said excitedly.

Draco nodded his very sarcastic assent. "Of course it wasn't him, Klay."

"No I'm serious Draco!" He waived his arms about. "I've looked up the files and everything. We did receive letters from him but they were never passed on; and I read them, they are not about rejection Draco."

Draco looked at him and thought about it. He reread the letter is his head, because he remembered the words so easily. The more he thought about, the more he knew it wasn't Harry's style. He would never talk like that, he would not say 'yours truly' and he probably wouldn't sign it with his surname too. But it had to be Harry's, that's how it was meant to be. Draco had died because of this. It was real; he knew it had to be.

Realisation struck him with a jolt. He put a hand over his mouth. "Oh Fuck, my father," he breathed. "It sounded like my father." He turned abruptly towards Klaymore. "That nurse, she must have pushed it through."

"What does she look like?"

Draco had to think about, because he hadn't looked that closely. He shrugged. "Well, actually I only know that her hair is dark," he said.

Klaymore sighed. "Yeah like ninety percent of the nurses round here."

They talked on for a bit more, trying to extract the most of the little they had. Draco looked out of the window. So it didn't come from Harry. He wouldn't allow himself the pain of hoping again, but fact is that he had not been rejected. Unconsciously, hope did start to bloom in him again. His mark stopped growing, he stopped feeling it; even though his shoulder blades continued to bleed.

Klaymore returned with a list of names and Draco looked through it. No name rang a bell. It had to be an ex death-eater, or wife of a death-Eater, or maybe a bad deter. Anyone that Lucius could control. He sighed; before he could truly allow himself to hope again – not that he would – he needed the confirmation that that letter was not from Harry.

Klaymore stayed a bit more by him. "Harry's here again today. He's hoping to see you," he said.

Draco turned the page on his book. "Don't let him in," he replied.

Klaymore sighed and sat up to look him face to face. "Now look here, Princess," he said firmly. "We already talked about this. Your body is failing. We can keep you alive and all that but you need to live, not survive. This guy wants to see you, why not let him in?"

Draco continued to read and didn't reply. He could not go against what Klaymore had said; of course he knew he was right. He never did answer, he simply ignored it. He was flattered and a bit scared that Harry was here. He leaned back and closed his eyes. Soon he drifted into sleep; a long and dreamless sleep.

"""""""""

He awoke the next morning for breakfast, where the nurse came to bring him food. This time he truly observed her, but she didn't remind him of anything. He did however notice the ring gleaming off her finger.

"Have you been married long?" he asked sneakily.

The nurse smiled, as if she was very happy to talk about it. "Not, actually. I'm engaged," she replied.

He pretended to be awfully interested by this and added, "My congratulations. Who is the lucky man if I may?"

"Thorfinn Rowle."

She left with a satisfied blush and Draco just couldn't put a face on the name. He knew the name, but that could either mean that he was indeed a Death-Eater, or that he could be some kind of unspeakable. He called in Klaymore to look it up for him. The latter informed him that school had started again and that his first lessons had been sent.

Draco took one look at it and pushed it do the side. He was probably never going to go back anyway. He couldn't even imagine his future now, let alone build up towards a future job. He called one of the nurses, a different one this time, and asked her to bring him all of Harry's letters. They were first tested and retested; but by dinner Draco had them.

It was a little stack of four letters, all put into the correct order. The Slytherin breathed in and started reading the first one.

Dear Draco,

I am sorry I didn't read your letter sooner; I would have stopped them from taking you away.

I've tried to reach you. I've just gotten back from Saint Mungo's, but they didn't let me it or tell me anything. Madame Pomfrey just said that you had an immediate operation. I hope you're okay.

Like I told you last time, I am starting to think that you are right; and I've probably never felt as miserable in my life.

I miss you, and I will go on trying to get to you.

Harry.

Draco's heart beat faster than it did before. This was not a rejection, and it did sound like Harry. He took the next one.

Dear Draco,

Just a short note to tell you that I hope you are okay. I've read a bit more on Veelas and I suppose it must be tough for you (Well duh, otherwise you wouldn't be in Saint Mungo's).

I tried again today, but they still won't let me see you.

Merlin I'm sorry, I was an idiot.

I hope to see you real soon.

Harry.

Draco was trying to make sense of the words, read between the lines. In a certain way, he knew that he was being ridiculous, that Harry was clear and that there were no hidden messages, but he just had to look; just in case. He took the next one.

Dear Draco,

I came by this morning, and the nurse said you were being operated. Please be alright...

I want to give it a shot. Us I mean. I don't know much yet, I guess I just want to see you to know for sure; but I do know that I miss you and that I want to be with you.

I won't stop trying.

Harry.

A tear rolled from his eyes, as he was starting to realise what was going on. The nurses dated the letters by arrival. The last one had arrived at the same time that he received the rejection letter. It simply read,

I choose you.

And Draco caved in. His heart beat went so fast and he didn't know if he was relieved or terrified. He started sweating and stressing; and for the first time since a while, he turned towards his legs and tried moving them. They didn't. He looked at the covers in a desperate act. What was real? What if those letters were not Harry either and all was a lie? What if his twisted genes recreated the sentence into what they wanted or needed to see?

His thoughts were interrupted by the return of Klaymore wearing a successful grin and throwing an apple repeatedly in the air. "You were right," he said as he sat down. "Thorfinn Rowle is a suspected Death-Eater who has a criminal file as long as your arm."

And there it was; laid out on the table: the truth. Harry had not rejected him, it wasn't him. In fact, they chose each other.

Draco turned towards Klaymore and asked, "The mark, will it disappear?"

Klaymore put the apple down on the cupboard and stood up. "I want to show you something," he said as he removed his shirt. Behind on his back was a mark. On his right shoulder blade, a single feather was carved in blue print.

Draco looked up at him. "What happened?"

Klaymore sat back down and kept his shirt off. "A bit like you," he replied. "My mate already had a man, so she didn't want me. I ended up a bit like you; ill and sick and everything. It didn't last as long as you though. She came to me fairly quickly."

"What happened to the mark?"

"It left," he shrugged. "The deeper wounds, the shoulder blade ones, are the only ones that stay. I've got one feather up there; you're going to have the entire bloody wings if you carry on! You've already got one Draco. Don't you get it? He is here for you; if that second wing finishes, you're over. Your mind will be gone. He is here now, don't let him go again."

Draco looked at him, and thought about it. He breathed and faced his own truth. "I can't go through that again," he whispered. "Once more and it'll be the death of me."

Klaymore nodded and got up. "Let me get him, okay?"

Draco paused a moment and nodded. "Just let me do something first"

"""""""""""

Draco sat down in front of his book and parchment. He dipped his feather in the jar of ink and started writing in elegant script.

Dear Sir, Madam,

I, Draco Abraxas Lucius Malfoy, do hereby officially declare my retreat from the Malfoy Family. I wish to be taken from my father's will and do hereby renounce to all wealth and legacy that my name could have brought to me.

I wish to take on my mother – Narcissa Juliet Malfoy -'s maiden name of Black, and be completely part of that family, known only as such.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Cordially,

Draco A.L.

He folded it neatly and wrote another letter to his father in Azkaban; to announce him that he was disowning himself. His father had of course wanted to, but never had time to do so. He sent both letters away and breathed out. He had officially done it. He would no longer be a Malfoy, no longer be everything that he had always been. He looked down at his arm; the mark had completely taken over the other one. It was circling round it like a snake, a nicer one. Around the blue curves, the black ink from the Dark mark was fading, until the borders were the last to be seen. Draco snorted at the irony and the symbol. It was done. He had waved his old life 'thank you, fuck you and goodbye'. He lifted his head in victory. He had lost the bane of his life, the obligations that his name brought, but he still felt proud, he felt alright, all things considered.

Klaymore knocked on his door and passed his head in the room. "He's here," he simply said. "Can I let him in?"

Draco thought about it a moment and asked, "Klay, tell me really, will I walk again?"

Klaymore smiled at him and replied, "Yes you will Princess," and he went out.

Draco tried sitting up, pushing himself up on his arms. He put the cushions correctly behind his back and did his hair up; not that it mattered. He knew he looked awful, even worse than he had before. The mark covered the vast majority of his body, it had become impossible to conceal beneath his clothes. He wanted badly to glamour himself, but part of him wanted Harry to know what he had done to him.

A knock came to the door and Klaymore opened it. "He's waiting outside. Do you want me to stay?" he asked.

Draco shook his head. He wanted, and needed this time alone with Harry. Klaymore left and the door remained open. There was a pause and then he was there. Draco had to turn his head away from shame as he felt him getting closer. His heart beat went so fast that he felt sure that Harry could hear it.

The latter sat down on the chair by his side. There was a silence for a moment before Harry said: "Hi."

Draco turned to him and looked at him, he hadn't changed. "Hi," he replied.

Harry stared at him, looked at the mark, at his scars and at his state. "Woah, you look..." he paused."Like shit."

Draco sent him a wry smile. "Yeah I know."

They looked at each other, deep in each other's eyes and the words echoed between them: I choose you. Harry got up and sat on the bed, closer to him. He stretched his hand towards Draco's. After a moment of hesitation, he gently laid his hand on top of Draco's. A pang filled Draco and he suddenly felt like this was breathing; like he'd been on pause for the past days – or weeks, he didn't know. He turned his hand so that they were palm to palm and Harry threaded their fingers together.

"How are you?" he finally asked.

Draco looked at their hands as he played between them. "Alright."

Harry looked at him and put a finger underneath his chin to lift his head. He caressed the mark on his neck and added, "What happened to you? No one will tell me."

Draco took the hand from his body and held onto it. He waited a moment and explained, "My body is failing, basically. So I came here with internal bleeding, had an operation. My kidneys and my liver are practically drugged into working, had an operation for that too. Well that's it really. Oh and I'm paralysed from the waist down."

"What?!" Harry interjected.

"I'm paralysed from the waist down. It's temporary."

Harry squeezed his hand firmly and looked up to him. He suddenly reached out and put his arms around Draco's waist. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, Draco," he whispered in his ear. "If only I hadn't played Quidditch then, I would have known. I would have-"

Draco breathed, finally, and embraced him back. "It's okay," he replied. "You're here now."

Harry extracted himself a little and looked at him. "I do choose you," he said honestly. "I don't really know where to take it from here, or what's happening; but I do want to try."

Something welled up inside him as he saw those eyes searching for his; he had wanted it for so long – or at least it felt like it had been a lifetime. Perhaps it had been.

Draco smiled. "You are going Gryffindor on me again, Potter."

Harry smiled at him and gave him a good natured shove. "Shut up."

They both looked down at their clasped hands. Draco revelled in the small touch. It felt like he was reborn, that he was here again. He felt a fluid gliding through every curve in his mark, but it didn't hurt, it felt like a caress.

He finally added, "Oh I've been disowned by the way. Well not disowned as such, I sent a letter to the ministry to be removed from the Malfoy family."

"I can't imagine you not being a Malfoy," Harry replied quite honestly.

Draco shrugged. "I'll still be as much a Malfoy as I was. I am simply not keeping the name," he explained.

"And which name will you have?"

"Black."

Harry smiled and pulled his legs over onto the bed, keeping his firm hold on Draco's hand, carefully caressing him with his thumb.

"Well that's cool," he said. "I've always quite fancied the Blacks."

Draco shoved him. "I always knew there was something between you and Black."

Harry smiled and caressed his wrist line. Draco felt it ringing between them: I choose you. Something odd formed in his throat and he started coughing lightly. Harry asked him if he was all alright and he did think he was. He breathed in and it built up a pressure in him. He frowned and laid a hand on his chest.

"Something feels... weird," he breathed.

Harry stretched his arm and touched his heart. He frowned too. "It's fast," he answered. "And irregular."

His vision turned as he looked up at the ceiling and he broke up in sweat. He could feel the heat radiating from his back, as droplets pushed his eye lids down. He vaguely felt Harry holding him up, vaguely recognized Klaymore's voice calling the nurses. He vaguely thought of the irony: of dying when he finally wants to live.

""""""""""

If this is being dead, then it still sucks; he thought. It was white, fucking white; he felt like a story book. Everything was white, and everything was empty. Actually, his gaze was stuck to the ceiling, and seemed unwilling to turn towards the room. A voice was calling him again; and Merlin if this is the voice of Lucifer, then please send me to hell. Something touched his hand and he finally managed to pull himself from white and look at him. Oh mama, and if this is Gabriel, then let me die.

Klaymore sat on his other side. "Hey Buddy, how are you?"

He turned towards him with a witty answer at the ready, but as he thought about it he stopped. He raised an eye brow at himself and replied slowly, "Well... I feel alright actually."

Harry breathed out a sigh of relief and Klaymore smiled unsurprised.

Draco just looked between them. "Why what happened?"

They both sat down by his side on the bed, Harry held his hand tenderly as Klaymore explained, "Your body was used to being in 'survival mode' shall we say, and suddenly your mate was there and not rejecting you, it completely changed everything. Your genes were changing again, because they weren't hurting as much anymore; that caused you to faint at the time. You slept for about fourteen hours, the time for your code to change, and now you should be better."

Draco stared at him for a moment, not quite believing it. This was it then? The fight was over?

"So I'm cured?" he asked hopefully.

Klaymore leaned back. "Well not completely. Your kidneys and your liver are still badly damaged but now they can actually start to heal properly, instead of us 'sustaining' them. And unless I am mistaken, your legs are still paralysed."

Upon hearing all this, Draco dared to hope again and all three of them turned a grateful eye towards his legs. He sent the command. And still nothing moved. He shook his head. Klaymore told him not to worry, that it would come back in time; but he had been saying that for too long. He soon left, leaving them alone.

Harry took him in his arms and Draco held him back, inhaling that intoxicating smell. "You really scared me there," Harry whispered. Draco didn't answer, he just held him tighter. They stayed like that for a moment before Harry asked, "What happens now?"

"Nothing," was his simple reply. "I stay here until my body is fully recovered; you can either go back and forth or you can ask to come here too; because I sure as hell am not going to let you leave."

Harry smiled at that and lifted a hand. "At your service, my lady," he said.

Draco shoved him off the bed.

He just laughed and got back up again. He added, "No, actually I meant to us. I haven't read that part yet, but there is a bonding of some sorts isn't there?"

Draco nodded at that and answered, "Yes there is. It is a bit like a wedding, I suppose. It's a ritual where the traditional words are uttered and stuff like that."

Harry bit his lip and looked down at the covers."Do you mind if we don't do that yet?" He quickly added, "It's just that it's so much so fast. I choose you, I do, but the thought of getting married right now seems a little odd."

Draco felt a pang in his chest upon hearing his hesitation, but he accepted; he had no other choice in the matter anyway. He wanted his complete commitment, but he refused to beg for it, or to force Harry to give it.

So he nodded and replied, "Don't worry about it. I want you to choose this, I won't be the one to force you, and I must agree that I don't fancy the idea of a marriage either."

Harry smiled at him and caressed his hand. Draco wanted to lean forward to touch him more, his hands itched to do so; but Harry's hesitant somewhat heroic eyes kept him from doing so. He would let him set the pace.

"I won't let you die, Draco," Harry said and Draco smiled.

He knew he wouldn't, the clingy part of him mind had probably always known.

Beneath the covers, too small to be seen or felt, a single toe tapped against the mattress.

Finally some comfort! I hope you like and review xxx

*Edited